Rift
by Calcitrix
Summary: A Halloween story. Lady Jaye has a mysterious experience on an undercover mission.


Undercover work could be interesting and exciting, but it wasn't usually fun. Tonight was an exception. And tonight "undercover" was meant literally—everyone was in costume, masked and anonymous. It was Halloween, and it was New York, which meant that any costume that could be conceived of was seen at the party, so long as it rendered the wearer's identity unknown.

"How are we supposed to identify Cobra's contact if everyone is masked?" Flint whispered out of the corner of his mouth. He took a sip of punch and glanced at the throng of guests who filled the old warehouse to the brim. The corner they occupied was dark, but it gave a good view of the rest of the room. Flint sounded annoyed already, and Lady Jaye didn't blame him. The assignment was supposed to be an easy one, but by the look of things, they would be here much later than they had planned.

Lady Jaye smiled, her white teeth showing beneath the edge of her mantilla, the traditional Spanish headgear slightly altered to cover more than just her hair. "He's supposed to meet Major Bludd tonight. Look for the mask with only one eye underneath."

"Is that a joke?" Flint replied. "There must be three hundred people here." He frowned, trying to look at the faces nearby.

"Relax. We've got two hours to find him." Lady Jaye turned to face her partner, the long, heavy skirts following her movement with flowing grace. "At least you don't have to spend the evening in a dress." Her own costume, that of a Spanish dancer, was thick with creamy layers of lace. She eyed Flint's costume, wishing that she had the freedom of pants as well. He was dressed as Zorro, and the outfit clung to him, clearly defining the muscles in his legs and torso. "Not that you could run in those pants," she teased.

His cheeks colored slightly, and he raised the glass to his lips, muttering, "I told you, blame Duke. He picked out the costumes." His eyes wandered down her own rather tight fitting clothes, eyebrows drawing together. "He could have chosen something a little less revealing for you."

She rolled her eyes at him and turned out toward the crowd. "This is a five hundred dollar ticket event. One does not show up dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz." She saw him open his mouth to reply, and spoke before he had a chance. "Time to split up. Let's meet back here in half an hour to compare notes." Lady Jaye waited for his nod before moving off into the crowd, heading toward the far side of the room.

She made it only a short distance into the crowd before being accosted by a man in a Greek god costume who wanted her to dance. She managed to escape his attentions, but before long found her way blocked by another man, this one dressed as a pirate. Some ten men later, she realized it was already time to meet up with Flint again, and she'd hardly made any progress across the room.

He was waiting for her in the corner, and she could tell by his expression he'd had no luck. "Half an hour?" he asked wryly.

"Sorry, I kept getting asked to dance," she replied offhandedly. His face darkened, and she continued, "I take it you had no luck?"

Flint shook his head. "I didn't see anyone who looked even remotely like Bludd."

Lady Jaye sighed. "Me either. I guess we just keep looking. Let's give it an hour this time."

She started forward, but Flint's hand on her arm stopped her. "I think we should stick together."

She looked up into Flint's eyes, confused for a moment at the fierce possessiveness she saw there. "Flint, I'm fine. These men are harmless. Even Major Bludd won't try anything in a crowd of people."

"That's not why—" he started, then gave a shake of his head. "Fine. One hour." He stalked off, nearly plowing through the edge of the crowd.

_What is wrong with him tonight?_ she wondered, heading the opposite direction. She nearly ground her teeth in frustration as yet another man stepped in front of her with a wide smile. Giving up on her polite façade, she sidestepped him completely and continued through the throng.

There was no sign of Major Bludd. None of the costumed men walked or spoke like him. No one wore a mask that could hide an eyepatch. Lady Jaye had nearly reached the far wall when she was brought up short by a hand on her shoulder. She turned without looking to see who it was and snapped, "I don't want to dance."

The voice that replied was deep and rich. "I doubt you do, since you're obviously looking for someone."

Her gaze moved over the broad chest and sculpted shoulders and settled on the bright blue eyes behind the plain white mask. The man was dressed in the fashion of colonial America, all velvet and lace frills. Somehow it didn't look silly on him. "Then please allow me to continue," she told him.

"He's not in here," the man said as she brushed by him.

She stopped abruptly and swung back around, eyeing him warily. "And how would you know that?"

"You're looking for the man with the eyepatch, yes?" he asked, a glimmer of a smile on his lips. He didn't quite have an accent, but his speech sounded strange. "He's outside, waiting for another man."

Lady Jaye regarded him for a moment. He didn't strike her as military or even government, but there was no one else who would know that a member of Cobra was at this party. For that matter, supposedly only a select few even knew that there was an informant in the government, supplying sensitive information to the terrorist organization. It was at functions like these that the information was passed—one of the reasons it was proving difficult to pinpoint the traitor.

She wondered if this man might be the one. But why would he expose himself? "How did you know who I'm looking for?" she asked warily.

The man shrugged. "You'll miss them if you don't hurry," he said. "They're at the docks out back." He nodded toward a door that presumably led to the water.

"But how did you—" she turned back toward the man, but he was gone. She could try to find him again, or she could blindly follow his information. She chewed her lip, scanning the crowd, but there was no sign of him, nor of Flint.

On the possibility that the man might be right, Lady Jaye headed toward the exit. She could check the docks and be back with enough time left to find her quarry inside if he proved to be wrong.

The cold air hit her immediately, her breath rising in a white cloud to join the fog that blanketed the night. She shivered, walking as quickly and quietly as possible through the jumble of broken crates and rusted machinery that littered the concrete between the old warehouse and the docks. The cover lasted to the foot of the docks themselves, and she kept to the shadows, invisible.

There were two men midway out on the second dock to the left, but she couldn't see enough detail through the fog to identify either. Hoping it wasn't a trap, Lady Jaye crept along the wharf's edge, able to hear nothing over the sound of the water far below her.

The fog swirled around her legs as she moved, leaving her skirts and head piece damp and heavy. She removed the lace veil completely and left it on a coil of rope. She could see clearly enough now that one of the men was indeed Major Bludd. He wasn't in costume, which meant that he hadn't been inside the building at all tonight.

The other man was dressed as a Roman warrior, although he didn't quite have the build to pull it off. Lady Jaye tried to note any distinguishing features, but the costume obscured him entirely. She moved closer, abandoning the cover of shadows to step onto the dock itself. The men weren't paying attention, and with luck, she could get close enough to take them by surprise.

Lady Jaye wrinkled her nose at the smell of tar and pitch as she crept out on the dock. She idly wondered at its source, but mainly concentrated on keeping her footsteps as quiet as possible. The sound of the water changed as she moved farther out, becoming louder as the fog carried the echoes of the waves striking the pilings. There was a sudden creak and snap, and she froze as the two men looked up at the sound.

Bludd raised a hand and pointed at her, and she started to run, pulling out the gun that had been concealed in the thick frills of her dress. The wet fabric caught at her legs, and she cursed her speed. At least there was nowhere for them to go.

She heard Bludd shout into a radio, ordering whatever back up was nearby to come to his rescue. Lady Jaye kept the gun trained on him, expecting him to bring his own to bear, but he appeared to be unarmed.

They stood facing each other, unmoving. Lady Jaye gestured with her gun for the two to stand closer together. They complied, and the fog carried Bludd's angry hiss to her ears. "This is why I don't like to meet you unarmed, fool."

"Take off your mask," Lady Jaye demanded. The second man complied hastily. He was nothing exceptional; just another of the multitude of government workers. He looked more like a secretary than a military man. "Who are you?" she asked him.

The man glanced at Bludd, but didn't answer. She stepped closer, feeling the dock shift beneath her. A huge shadow appeared out of the darkness and nudged the wood, sending a shiver down its length. Lady Jaye looked up, thinking that the Cobra backup had arrived, but she could see nothing through the fog.

The night burst into life around them. The fog swirled around figures that moved and shouted, carrying sacks, chests, and barrels. Lady Jaye stared, trying to make sense of the abrupt change. It had to be a Cobra trick. She shoved past a man carrying a sheaf of papers in time to see Major Bludd step off the end of the dock and into an awaiting Cobra boat. She fired, but the shot glanced harmlessly off the metal hull, and the boat turned, accelerating.

She ran toward Bludd's contact, who was staring around him, eyes wide with shock. She reached his side, prepared to use force, but the man was obviously terrified and in no shape to fight back. "It's just Cobra," she told him. "They set up some kind of a distraction." And it worked, she thought. Bludd got away.

She grabbed the man's arms, and he didn't resist, allowing her to pull them behind his back. "He didn't see them," the man whispered hoarsly. "I swear, he didn't see them!"

Lady Jaye glanced around uneasily. To her eyes, the dock was bustling, full of workers unloading the huge old ship that was now moored at its side. The workers ignored the two of them, moving purposefully about their business. "Whatever it is, it will stop now that Bludd's gone," she told him, giving him a push back toward the wharf.

The man resisted, shaking his head. "You can't make me walk through that," he protested.

"It's not real," she growled, shoving harder. He stood his ground. She debated the effort it would take to drag him all the way back to the building. "Would you rather stay out here with them?"

"At least they're not close." Twenty feet separated them from the path of the workers, and to get back, they would have to walk right through the middle of the crowd. Lady Jaye's uneasiness grew. Whatever Bludd had done, it wasn't stopping. Could Cobra have set up a hologram device? Why would they, when they didn't know she and Flint would be there tonight? Why continue it now that Bludd was gone?

A familiar figure pushed its way past the throng. It was the man from the party. He strode toward the pair, stopping a few feet in front of them. "You need to leave," he told Lady Jaye. His voice sounded frightened.

"I was trying to," she replied. "But I need to bring him with me."

The costumed man shook his head, pleading. "Leave him. You need to go—now."

"Why? What's happening?" She was starting to feel more than uneasy. This seemed like too much effort for Cobra.

"It's Samhuinn," he said. She recognized the Scottish term for Samhain. Halloween. "The veil between time is thin. This is a result." He gestured to the men and the ship behind him. "It's—we're—from the past. These men don't even know they've gone through time. To them, it's just another night. The hole is closing again, though. The men, this dock, the ship—it will all return to its own time very soon."

If this was a set-up, it was very elaborate. Lady Jaye took a step closer to the masked man. "I don't understand. I was out here when this—this thing opened. Now it will close again, and I'll take this man into custody."

"No! It doesn't work like that." He was starting to sound desperate. "You will be taken back with them. I shouldn't have sent you out here. I thought there was more time…" Beside her, the informant gave a small whimper and closed his eyes.

Lady Jaye looked along the length of the dock. It sounded incredible—and yet, some of her own experiences since joining the team sounded just as insane. If what he said was true, she didn't have enough time to make it off the dock while dragging her captive. But she couldn't leave him, either. The purpose of her mission was to capture this man.

The decision was taken out of her hands. With a cry, the masked man threw himself against her, and she toppled off of the end of the dock and into the water.

It was bone-chillingly cold. The shock hit her immediately, and she struggled to force her rapidly numbing limbs to take her to the surface. Her head broke through the water, and she gasped for breath. She managed to tread water for a few moments and stole a glance up at the dock. She couldn't see the man she had captured; in fact, the entire length of dock shimmered in the fog, which seemed to be getting thicker. The weight of her now sodden dress pulled at her, and she went under again.

The currents around the pilings pulled at her, driving her deeper under the water. It was impossible to do anything more than close her eyes and pray that she would live. She hit something hard; sharp edges bit into her shoulder and she cried out involuntarily, losing the last of her precious breath. Darkness claimed her.

It seemed like an eternity passed. Something else was tugging at her, insistent. She ignored it, unwilling to open herself to the pain in her lungs and body. She heard her name spoken, forcing her brain to respond. She struggled to open her eyes.

Salt water stung them, and she blinked rapidly. Her lungs and stomach burned. She managed to turn just in time to throw up onto the sand. Gentle hands lifted her, and a quiet voice soothed, "Shh, honey. You'll be okay."

When Lady Jaye next regained her senses, she was sitting up against a wall, and someone was rubbing her chilled fingers. She cracked an eyelid and saw Flint crouched over her, concern etched in his features. "What happened?" she croaked. "Flint, how did you find me?"

He smiled to see her awake. "Someone dressed like Ben Franklin told me you were outside with Bludd. When I came out onto the wharf, there was no sign of anyone. I was looking for a Cobra boat when I caught a flash of white under the water." He gave a small smile. "If you had been wearing anything else, I probably wouldn't have seen you."

Lady Jaye noticed now that Flint was as wet as she was. They were still outside, although the building protected them from the worst of the wind. Still she shivered, as much from the experience as the cold. Flint noticed and wrapped his arms around her. She relaxed into his embrace.

"You had me worried," he whispered. She felt the tenseness in his muscles, heard the quaver in his voice. She looked into his eyes, noticing for the first time that night how he looked at her.

"Oh,"she said in a small voice.

"What happened to you? Did you see Bludd?"

She nodded against his chest. "I captured them. I had them at gunpoint…" She shivered again, aware of how close she had come to death—or something else. "Bludd got away. The other man…" she wondered what to tell Flint. "I don't think you'd believe me. But he's gone. Permanently, I think."

"Did you find out who he was?" Flint stood and pulled her up. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he steered her around the corner of the building and toward their car.

"No. But I could identify him if I saw a picture."

Flint nodded. "I suppose that will have to do. I'll let you rest on the ride back to the hotel, but then I want to hear what happened tonight."

Lady Jaye felt drained. A mix of emotions was running through her, complicated by what she suspected about Flint's demeanor. She was too tired to work it out just then. She would have the whole trip back to base to think about it. As for the rest of the evening, she'd rather not think about it at all. She gave a small laugh, causing Flint to look down at her in concern. She met his gaze and smiled. "Happy Halloween." _And have I got a ghost story for you,_ she thought.


End file.
